


Something To Fight For

by PinkAngel



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAngel/pseuds/PinkAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With war comes pain, doubt, and depression for Jonathan Archer. Until someone gives him the secret to survival.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something To Fight For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeredithBrody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeredithBrody/gifts).



> Another Jorika for BonesBird. Because she's awesome and because she thought this would be a good idea.

A dimly lit bar, a drunk in the corner trying to hit on anything with two legs, and a half empty bottle of brandy sitting in front of him. Is this what his life came to these days? All these years and this is where he found himself. He shot back the rest of his drink and refilled the glass in hopes of that thought being washed away with all the others that he'd come here to get rid of.

Faces of crewmembers, of friends, who had already dead trying to protect their home and family flashed through his mind and with each face another knife was wedged into his heart. Right then and there he swore to himself not to leave the bar until that bottle of brandy way empty.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone slipping onto the seat next to him. Or maybe he'd simply sensed her presence more than saw it. Either way, he knew who it was that dared to join his depression circle. She didn't say anything and he knew she was waiting for him to say something. He was suddenly having deja vu.

Might as well get this over with. "Why do we bother anymore?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but the set of eyes glancing in his direction told him that she'd heard.

"Someone has to," she answered simply, pouring herself some of the brandy.

"But what does it matter? No matter what we do, no matter how many battles we fight, peace is only temporary. There'll be anther war, another enemy out to obliterate us...why try so hard to fight it?" It wasn't a rhetorical question like he'd planned. He suddenly found himself desperate to know. Desperate for any reason to keep going.

The hand that was suddenly covering his almost gave him a reason.

"We do," she began, squeezing his hand gently. "Because once in awhile we find something, someone, worth saving. It gives us a reason to fight even when we’re too tired."

For the first time he looked up from the counter and actually looked in her direction. Somehow he even managed to smile a little. "Have you found that...something?"

The little twinkle in her eyes said it all. "I did." Without another word she stood, patted his cheek softly, and then left him with his brandy.

  
The feel of her hand on his face lingered long after she'd left. Almost like a ghost. Except Erika wasn't a ghost and technically neither was he, even if it felt like it at times. Just how long could that really last though? There was a war going on, a never ending war it seemed, and people were dyeing off left and right. How much longer before it was him or worse...Erika?

He wasn't anywhere near ready to think about that tonight.

He looked down at the glass in front of him. It suddenly didn't have any appeal. The brandy obviously wasn't healing his wounds, only blurring the memory of the injury. The wounds still lingered, festering slowly, and gradually turning into scars.

Erika had soothed the pain, just as she'd always done, but without her it resurfaced. The warmth of her hand had shocked his nerves into feeling again while the coldness inside him faded to warmth for a few wonderful seconds. It had been nice.

" _I did_."

Her words echoed in his otherwise foggy mind. In fact her voice was the only clear thing in his head. That wasn't necessarily because he was pretty close to being drunk either. Her voice was always with him, guiding him, giving him comfort and advice when he was alone and needed it most.

" _Because once in awhile we find something, someone, worth saving. It gives us a reason to fight even when we’re too tired_."

Erika. That's who he thought of. When he was lost, when he pictured the family he fought for, Erika was always quick to flash through his mind's eye. If he thought about the reasons why he'd kept going up until this point there were a few points on the list and near the top was Erika's name.

How many times was she going to pull him from the brink like this? How much longer would she be able to? He was tired, so he knew she was too. Yet she kept going and she kept coming back to drag him along as well. The overly simplistic, but honest, reason she was able to do it?

" _Have you found that...something_?"

" _I did_."

The way she'd said it, the look in her eyes, the tender hand on his face...it answered his question. It may have answered everything, even things he hadn't asked. If he had read her correctly she may very well have given him the answers to questions that'd haunted him years ago when they'd been younger and career oriented and unwilling to alter the other's path.

Did Erika Hernandez still love him?

Right now he would say yes.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he hoped it wasn't. Only one way to find out. He tossed something, he wasn't even sure what, onto the counter as payment for his brandy and headed out of the bar. Now where to find Erika...

He'd know the answer to that even if he were too drunk to know his own name.

 

* * *

 

　

　

A few places from a his life stuck out in his memory with vivid clarity. One of those places held a significant importance solely for one reason. Erika. Everything came back to Erika.

The small park was just outside the Academy, the bench overlooked the San Francisco bay and, fortunately, it was close to the bar he'd found himself in earlier. As he walked his foggy thoughts began to clear and still they circled around the woman he was headed to see. He only hoped she were here...

As expected, and to his racing heart's delight, there she was. Standing by their bench, arms crossed, while she looked off into the distance. With the lights of the city and the Academy shining through the night she was clearly visible and he found himself stopping to watch her for a minute. Maybe he made a noise or maybe she could just sense his presence, but after a moment she looked over her should and smiled. He took that as his invitation to join her.

"I was wondering if you'd show up," she said once he was a few mere feet from her.

He wanted to reply with some sort of wise crack, but couldn't seem to think up anything. "I was thinking."

Erika scoffed as she turned around to face him completely, a light smirk on her face. "Jon, I think you've done enough thinking for one night."

She was probably right. She always was. He moved closer to her, closing the gap step by step until they stood face-to-face and nearly touching. He wanted... _needed_.. to be this close, if not closer. "Erika..." He reached up and reverently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while his gaze studied her face, searing for the answer to the question he couldn't bring himself to voice.

But this was Erika. She always knew what he was thinking and seemed to understand his feelings even from lightyears away. She smiled softly and brought a hand up to rest on his cheek. The tingling warmth spread from his cheek down to his chest and limbs again until he was enveloped in the soothing security that was Erika Hernandez.

"Jon," she said, just above a whisper. "Don't over think this. You're a good man. Just do what your heart tells you to do."

His heart told him to hold her and never let go.

His heart said he needed Erika.

He didn't need further convincing. He cupped her face with one hand, pulled her closer with the other, and leant down to kiss her all in one fluid move of desperation. He kissed her with every ounce of love and passion he'd held inside, his heart practically jumping out of his chest when she kissed him back with equal vigor.

He felt as if everything had lead to this moment. The joys and the pain alike. It all intertwined and created this perfect picture. Finally.... _finally_....everything clicked.

He'd found his someone worth fighting for and ironically enough she'd always been there. Life and war were hard and painful, but now he understood the secret. And now that he understood, now that he had his secret weapon in his arms, he was never going to let go again. He might actually survive this war now.

He never did finish that brandy.


End file.
